A sad waltz,

OOM;

They’re called, respectively,
a cubicle and a urinal,
the wall-less booth where we work and the door-less loo where we pee,

In our adorable society,
that’s the extent we are to share,

The content of our monitors,
the short film of our urinations,
with its lovely soundtrack,
and its wobbly ending,
and couple of useless info, on some on-line social networks

PAPA;

In an awfully springy, mildly rainy day
a share of her glittering eyes, a share of her dazzling smile,
her radiant tone of skin and the lightness of her moves,
the music of her voice and the cuteness of her shoes,
became mine,

OOM;

I wish you could share your lips,
with me,
and I could share my dreams
with you,

but your lips are already taken,
and there’s a mildly sinister fairy,
that every single night
steals my dreams away,

Every single night,
Every single night